“Will your family miss you for the holiday?” Vivian asks, pulling a tray with two pitchers on it from the refrigerator. A little bubble of panic floats to the top of my throat as I try to figure out how to tell these people I’m nothing like them. I’m more than relieved when she keeps talking and doesn’t wait on an answer. “I hate when my kids can’t come for Thanksgiving. It’s our favorite holiday, the one not marred by gifts and cards and money,” she says, shooting Sienna a look.
“I don’t ask for money,” Sienna shoots back. “Daddy just gives it to me.”
Vivian lets it go and instead pulls three heavy glasses from a mahogany cabinet. “You are spoiled rotten.”
“That’s why I’ve had a job since I was fifteen, right?” Sienna asks, crunching on the celery. “Because I’m so spoiled.”
“A little work never hurt anyone,” Vivian retorts, handing me a glass of dark liquid. “If you want something else, just ask. I got sidetracked here with my mouthy daughter.”
Sienna blows her mom a kiss. Vivian walks across the room, grabs her daughter’s face, and kisses her cheek.
They’re so easy with each other. Mother and daughter, yes, but something more. Something I’ve never really seen before. Maybe this is unconditional love.
“Danielle?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, fidgeting as I come back to the present. “It’s just been a long day.”
“Do you need to lie down?” Sienna asks. “I can take you up to your room. Lincoln always tries to take mine, but since I got here first, y’all are at the end.”
I can’t help but laugh at the smug look on her face. “That’s okay. I think Lincoln wanted to show me around when he gets back. He was pretty excited to bring me here.”
“It’s our favorite place,” Sienna smiles. “Our parents don’t live here, so we didn’t grow up here in that sense. But we’ve celebrated every holiday except Christmas morning, every big occasion, every summer break here.”
“I can see why.”
“What about you?” she asks. “What does your family do for holidays?”
I swallow by a lump in my throat and fidget in my seat. Vivian’s perfectly executed brow lifts ever-so-slightly. “My parents travel. Holidays really aren’t a big deal in my family,” I say as nonchalantly as possible.
“What?” Sienna almost barks. “How are they not a big deal?”
“Sienna,” Vivian breathes, giving her a look to shush her. I’m grateful for it, yet nervous because she senses my unease. That will lead to questions and it’s not something I want to get into.
These people are Americana. They’re as red-white-and-blue as apple pie. They’ll never understand my life. To them, I’ll be the black sheep of my family and I’m sure they’ll think I’m blemished in some way. Isn’t that how it will look? Why else would a set of successful, socially prominent parents have nothing to do with their only child?
“It’s fine,” I lie, smiling gratefully at Vivian. “My parents are just super busy.” Sipping my tea, I gather myself. “So, Sienna, what do you do?”
“I’m a fashion designer.” Her eyes sparkle as she grabs another stem of celery. “I live in Los Angeles, but am considering a move to Paris.”
“You just think you are,” Vivian scoffs, pulling various boxes and cartons from a pantry. “You are not moving overseas, Sienna LeighAnn.”
Sienna rolls her eyes behind her mother’s back, making me laugh. “No, I should move home and live with Camilla. We can wear matching rompers and attend all your social functions like the girls in My Best Friend’s Wedding.”
A giggle escapes my lips before I can stop it. Vivian looks at me and smiles. “She’s a handful.”
“At least I’m not a weirdo,” Sienna says, chomping on the vegetable again. “Like my dear twin sister. Where is she, anyway?”
Vivian releases a long, heavy sigh. “She’s supposed to be here,” she says, looking at the iron clock on the wall. “An hour ago. You need to t
alk to her, Sienna. See if you can find anything out.”
“What’s going on?” I ask before I stop myself. “I’m sorry. I just way overstepped my bounds.”
“No, honey, it’s fine,” Vivian says, swiping a manicured hand in the air. “My other daughter is usually the first one to all family functions, an ever-present fixture in all our lives.”
“We call her Swink because she’s always in our business,” Sienna points out. “But all of a sudden, she’s gone. I mean, she’s here. She’s around. But she doesn’t call me anymore. She’s not answering Graham’s calls. She’s not—”
“—showing up as usual,” Vivian sighs. “I’m sure she’s fine. She sounds fine. She’s just going through something, that’s all.”